


and i love you all too much

by pennydown



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, romantic adoring sex, soft, this is from a persephone/hades au but you cant tell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 14:05:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17561843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennydown/pseuds/pennydown
Summary: For John, sex has always been impersonal. Sex has been fleeting and anonymous, means to an end, a solution to a problem. It nevermeantanything. And that was fine, until now.Because now, Merle’s breaths were coming in impossibly hot pants against John’s lips, hands moving and searching and lighting every one of John’s nerves aflame.





	and i love you all too much

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brudawgg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brudawgg/gifts).



> ❌❌MINORS DO NOT READ/INTERACT.❌❌  
> if you’re not 18 go away. i don’t make my nsfw content for you. don’t comment or kudos. it makes me uncomfortable knowing this site lets minors access nsfw but if you’re a minor go the fuck away.
> 
> i know the original persephone/hades mythos is abusive and awful, but it’s mine now, and i say it’s gay and romantic and doesn’t involve stockholm syndrome
> 
> anyway this is probably ooc but i don’t care
> 
> no betas we die like men and post at 4am

For John, sex has always been impersonal. Sex has been fleeting and anonymous, means to an end, a solution to a problem. It never _meant_ anything. And that was fine, until now.

Because now, Merle’s breaths were coming in impossibly hot pants against John’s lips, hands moving and searching and lighting every one of John’s nerves aflame. His own hands hesitate, rest gently on Merle’s waist, as Merle lays him down on his bed— his _bed_ , which is suddenly covered in flowers and life, and John gasps in surprise both from the motion and the beauty. Merle chuckles, kisses John softly, and makes quick work of his robes, hands working deftly and confidently.

Distantly, John wonders who else has had the pleasure— no, the honor— of Merle’s hands like this, one soft and warm and human, the other stiff and wooden and yet so _tantilizing_. “Gosh, you’re a handsome thing,” Merle murmurs once John is completely exposed, the pale expanse of his flesh practically glowing in the soft light. Were it possible, he’s sure his cheeks would flush- but instead, he glances away, smells the flowers next to him, and says nothing. “Oh, sweetheart,” comes Merle’s voice, soft and heady and something _tenses_ inside of John when he feels Merle’s hand slip teasingly close to his erection. “Do you really like me that much?”

“Of _course_ I do,” he begins to protest, turning sharply to look at Merle- but when he does, his breath is stolen from his chest at what he sees. Somewhere along the line Merle had disrobed as well, sun-kissed and freckled skin contrasting so beautifully to John’s own. He’s handsome, stocky and strong, and the jagged, awkward scar on his shoulder where soulwood meets skin is fascinating, raised and imperfect and so human. John’s fingers reach out to touch the scar as Merle quietly detaches the wood, setting it on the floor beside them, and smiles almost nervously. “Merle,” John breathes, surging to kiss him, sitting upright, pulling their chests flush together and kissing him desperately, as though they had only moments together.

Merle’s hand slides between them, his fingers wrap around John and suddenly John is gasping into his mouth, wet and heavy and hard, and Merle’s mirthful laugh lights him on _fire_. His hands hover, again, tentative and afraid, and Merle laughs, pulling away from his lips to peer teasingly at him, brown eyes so impossibly deep and impossibly warm that John feels lost in them. “What’s wrong,” he asks, letting go to guide one of John’s trembling hands to his hip. “Are you afraid to touch me?”

John frowns, worries his lip, fixes his anxious gaze on Merle’s face. Silently, he nods.

“Whaddya think you’re gonna do,” Merle breathes, laying John back down and pressing a soft, aching kiss to his lips, another to his chin, then his jaw, then the space right below his ear. His voice is heavy when he continues: “Break me?”

John whines, cants his hips upwards and bites his own lip harder, already reduced to a useless puddle just from Merle’s words and kisses. “You’re-“ his voice breaks, he chokes on a gasp, and he shakes his head. “You’re just too perfect, my darling,” he whispers. “I don’t want to ruin you.”

Instead of the starry eyes of a romantic that John is expecting to be greeted by, he instead hears Merle chuckle, feels him shift to sit on John’s hips and slowly stroke him, raising an eyebrow as John’s spine arches, mouth falling open in a silent gasp. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say _I_ was the one ruining you, huh.” John doesn’t answer, too busy focusing on the way Merle moves his hand, and when he takes it away, John lazily lifts his head to see what has changed. What has changed is that Merle’s hand is now behind himself, his hips rolling and thighs squeezing John’s, eyebrows knitted in concentration. As he flutters his eyes open, noticing John staring, he smiles weakly, as he turns his head to sigh against his own shoulder. He looks gorgeous, flushed and a little sweaty and the flowers in his beard are blooming and fragrant. He’s fantastical, unreal, something so wonderfully beautiful John wonders how he can even exist. He watches his darling lover work himself open, drools over the way he moves and sighs and wants so badly to use his mouth on every inch of Merle’s body- but this isn’t about him. Finally, Merle takes his hand away, shifts forward, and John quietly, sturdily rests his hands on his hips as Merle sinks down onto him—

“ _Oh,_ ” they sigh in unison, sensations so different yet so alike, and Merle’s smile is like ambrosia, is like joy itself, and as he leans down to drape himself across John’s chest, John melts. They rock together slowly, languidly, taking their time— and for a long time the only sounds are their breaths and quiet whispers of each other’s names. Merle has busied himself with kissing John’s neck, while John rolls his hips slowly, chasing the euphoria of being so near Merle, so connected, so intertwined.

Merle’s the first to break the spell, tensing, nodding, breaths shuddering— and doesn’t even have to ask before John is sliding one hand down, stroking fast and soft and efficient, no finesse, just trying to please. When Merle finishes it is with little fanfare, just a tense and a sharp inhale and a soft sigh of John’s name— and a nod for him to continue.

It doesn’t take John much longer, eyes rolling back in his head, heat coiling inside of him, and Merle kisses him as he comes, swallows the sounds that he threatens to make, soothes him as John trembles his way through aftershocks. Their lips meet automatically, softly, reverently, and they make no move to separate— John fumbles one-handed for his discarded robes, gently sliding the garment over Merle to keep him warm, breathing in his scent. Merle smells like flowers and grass, like trees and honeysuckle and spring. He smells alive, like roses and sex, and John melts.

“Merle, I—“ His words catch in his throat. Was this too much? Too far?

“I love you,” Merle finishes for him, looking up at him like John was some sort of lovely, beautiful work of art. “I know. I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from the 1975’s ‘antichrist’. 
> 
> back on my bullshit of posting porn, i guess. maybe someday i’ll write smth sfw
> 
> i owe a lot of this inspo/dialogue to my dear friend @Brudawgg!! please give them some love
> 
>  
> 
> (also i know i forgot to write merle using some kind of fantasy lube but he totally does and i’ll fix this when i’m nto literally half awake)


End file.
